Page 2 of Charm on the Rocks
“And over there, sipping a beer kind of off to the side by himself. You see him?”
Madison looked over to where Amanda was pointing, through the clumps of people who naturally formed cliques with people they felt most comfortable with, laughing and talking and smiling – Madison wondered if it was real or if it was just another front put on by people with too many insecurities to keep track of – to a guy, off to the side who was, in fact, by himself, staring out at the sea as though he was contemplating something deep. She nodded, tearing her eyes away from him in order to look at Amanda.
“That’s Brandon Thorpe,” she said.
“Brandon Thorpe,” Madison asked, furrowing her brow. “How do I know that name?”
“Could have heard it on the news,” Amanda said. “There’s some drama going on with him at the center of it. But that’s pretty much been pushed to the wayside, what with Ken’s death. Although hockey never really gets on the local news... Anyway, Thorpe is the goaltender. Number nineteen. He’s one of, if not the, best in the league. I guess he wanted more money – he was supposed to resign with the Gulls last week, but decided to hold out for an increase in salary.”
“Was Ken going to give it to him?” Madison asked, her eyes fixed on Thorpe taking a sip of his beer.
“I’m not sure but I don’t think so,” Amanda said, shaking her head so her carrot-colored curls followed. “I’ve only met Ken through these events and that second interview, but from what I hear, he didn’t seem like the type to just hand out raises no matter how well the player performed.”
“So is he going to play?”
Amanda shrugged, making such a crude act look graceful. “As far as I know, he never signed with Ken,” she said. “But who knows? Maybe what with Ken being dead, Thorpe might review his priorities and jump on board while he still can.”
“Or, if he really is as greedy as you say he is, he might try and take advantage of this Seraphina girl, especially if she’s inexperienced with running a hockey team,” Madison murmured.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Amanda said, and she, too, looked out at the topic of the conversation. “I mean, yeah, Brandon’s kind of full of himself as a hockey player and he seems kind of snobbish because he rarely, if ever, hangs out with the team and socializes outside of mandated appearances. Look at him now; these events are for the players to interact with their fans and he’s being standoffish and unapproachable. But...” She blushed and her entire face turned red.
“But what?” Madison asked after what she felt was an appropriate time of silence for Amanda to continue.
“I don’t know why, but I get this feeling that there’s something more to him,” she said almost shyly, surprising Madison because in the weeks that she had known Amanda, she had never heard her red-headed friend sounding shy. “I can’t exactly explain it, and I could definitely be wrong, but I just think... I don’t know. He’s the one guy on the team I can’t put my finger on. I never really see him with a woman, so I don’t think he’s involved with anyone which could mean he’s gay, but I’ve seen him check out some of the Gulls Girls before, so I don’t think that’s it.” She shook her head, stopping herself physically from continuing her tangent. “He’s pretty quiet. Brooding, I guess.”
Madison looked at him once again, knowing in a manner of seconds, Amanda would move on to the next player, in order to take in his physical appearance. In truth, he kind of looked like a geek, what with ears that were slightly too big, a firm jaw decorated by brown whiskers that were too few to actually compose a beard and successfully minimized the somewhat large gap between his lips and chin. His short brown hair was unkempt and stray locks scattered across his face. He was tall, at least six feet but probably a couple of inches taller, and had broad shoulders and a well-built frame. His lips curled around the neck of the bottle, and even though she tried to garner the color of his eyes, Madison was too far away to say one way or the other with certainty.
“Oh, and over there is Dimitri Petrov,” Amanda said, pointing to a man with a woman by his side, laughing with people who Madison assumed were a couple of fans. “He’s the one with the whispy brown hair that looks like if you turned a fan, he’d totally get into letting the wind blow through it.” The two girls shared a laugh because, looking at him, Madison agreed with Amanda’s assessment of Dimitri’s hair. “He’s super- sweet. Just a fun guy, you know? He’s forty-one and still loves the game as much as he did when he started out in his native Russia at eighteen. And before you ask, yes, he has an amazing accent. He’s part of the second line. Right forward. Number three. He’s married to the woman standing next to him, totally in love with her still after eighteen years of marriage. Has three kids. He’s a fan favorite, a legend.
“See that guy talking to those girls? That’s Michael Thompson. He’s a rookie. Left defenseman. Can you believe he’s only nineteen years old? I feel like such a perv when I check him out.”
Madison grinned. “Nineteen technically means legal,” she pointed out. “And you’re only twenty-one yourself. You could totally pull off the whole cougar thing.”
“Oh, shut up,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes even though her face turned red once again. “He’s number five.”
“You know, he’s not that bad,” Madison said, and even though he wasn’t exactly her type, even Madison was charmed by his boyish smile. And what with those California blue eyes and golden brown hair, Madison was certain that once he began to play on the ice, he would not be in want of any female admirers, and in fact, already seemed to acquire some.
Amanda continued to point out players and give Madison all the information she deemed necessary, such as a player’s current relationship status rather than whether or not they went to college. Despite the fact that Madison was a fast learner, even she struggled with getting the names and faces straight. And she hadn’t yet factored into position or number. But Amanda was patient, and pointed out the rest of the defensemen, the rest of the second line, the backup goalie Sam Miller.
“Who’s that?” Madison asked after handing out another beer to a fan who commented on her barely- there bikini, making some sort of joke that she heard at least seven times since arriving here.
Amanda looked over to see just who she was pointing at, and a small frown touched her face. “Oh, I can’t believe I missed him,” she said. “That’s Alec Schumacher. He’s part of the first line, with Kyle and Matt. Plays right forward. Number seventeen.”
Madison waited for Amanda’s run down of his dating life, but when nothing came, Madison looked perplexed. “What? No run down?”
“Alec Schumacher is dating practically everybody,” Amanda replied and there was a small, bitter edge in her normally cheerful voice. “He has a thing for Gulls Girls, so I’d watch out if I were you. Especially since he’s quite the charmer and a heartbreaker. Not that I have any personal experience with him, but my best friend Connie got fired after her tryst with Alec was found out. And he pretty much broke up with her right after, too. He’s twenty-four years old, so it’s hard to blame him for playing the field and everything, but I’ve never seen him affected by any girl he’s ever been with, whether he breaks up with them or vice versa. It’s like he never gets emotionally involved with them. So just be careful. I know he’s what everyone calls the most attractive guy on the team, but that’s just a warning label, you know?”
Madison took a moment to take in the sight of him. Even she couldn’t deny the magnetic pull his mere presence triggered in both men and women alike, and judging by the small gathering of predominantly female audience, it was a safe bet to say that this Alec Schumacher was indeed charming. He was closer to her than Thorpe had been, and as a result, the first thing she noticed about him were his midnight blue almost black eyes. Even she had to take a moment to allow herself to take in his obvious beauty, despite her rationale trying to talk her out of becoming attracted to him. Like many of the other players, he had broad shoulders and had a nice balance of muscle for his tall frame. His hair was dirty blond, and if he hadn’t pushed back the locks from his face, they would surely fall into his face, even hiding his striking eyes.
But even with his obvious beauty, Madison felt her resolve begin to steel itself off from him. Not that he would even look her way, what with the gorgeous selection he had in front of him, but it was nice to know he couldn’t woo her even if he tried.
And then, as if he could feel her looking at him – and really, maybe he could – he looked up and directly at her. She swallowed, not fully believing that things like this actually happened outside of chick flicks and young adult novels, but forced herself to keep eye contact with him. She wouldn’t smile, wouldn’t wink or look at all suggestive. If she wanted to convey anything, it was that she knew he was attractive but she didn’t care.
“Don’t worry,” Madison said, breaking eye contact first in order to look at her friend. “Jocks aren’t really my type.”